Blacksmith of the Apocalypse

Chapter 138: Chapter 140 - 140. Burden Of Peac


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---Previously on Seth's Birthday--

"Ori humas are really something special, it only took you a few months, what other need years to achieve. You will soon reach the journeyman rank. What are your plans afterward?" a bloated Tored asked an even more bloated Seth.

"What do you mean?" he said with a lazy mind.

"Well, your tutelage ends once you reach journeyman. Did you forget that? I could keep you as a worker if you really want to stay, but there won't be any more benefits afterward."

Seth had forgotten it over the last few weeks. Or maybe he had suppressed the thought. Journeyman means one had mastered all the basics of the craft and was fit to go on a journey to find their own place in the world. The apprenticeship would end there.

In general, this was the point when a normal blacksmith would travel into the world to broaden their horizons, to gain experience, and find enlightenment in working with many different materials.

He realized that he had avoided this thought by concentrating on grinding.

"I guess, I will return to Urth."

"Oh, are you sure? I know it's your home and I'm not saying that it's a bad decision but... Isn't it currently quite chaotic and dangerous there? You could become a great blacksmith if you stay."

Yeah, why exactly did he want to return again? It had always been clear to him that he would return and lately he felt this growing urge to return. But why again?

When he closed his eyes, he saw the mountains where he went hiking with his parents when he was younger.

A sea of bright flames burning a whole city.

The pictures of a small bedroom came to his mind. The picture of a girl his age maybe younger, mutilated and abused lying on the bed...

A square filled with blood and broken weapons.

A sword penetrating the skull of a giant snake while he was on the edge of death himself.

A tiny fairy meekly crying for help on the dark surface of a vast ocean.

His fingers absentmindedly stroked the edge of his dish.

The growing urge to return burning in his chest.

"Homesickness, I guess," he said. Seth had no idea about his goals. Did he want adventures? Or help people? What was this fire, this turmoil he felt in his chest despite living a happy and peaceful life now?

Finding this answer might be the answer to why he wanted to return.

The dwarf only nodded at this short answer.

Present------

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Seth almost broke down at the anvil. For the last few days, he had worked like he was in a frenzy. He was covered in sweat and soot. With his wide-open eyes and a scraggly beard, he had looked like a madman singing the demonic ballads and forging weapons.

Seth dragged himself to his room and fell asleep. He had finally reached the first step and all tension fell off him.

---

Tored stood in his workshop where several finished weapons with terrifying demonic auras were haphazardly lying around on the floor and the workbenches. He knew from Seth that these weapons were technically not evil, but they still had an unsettling vibe.

From their differences, the dwarf guessed that Seth knew maybe 4 or 5 different demonic ballads. Some of them were like the first one the young man forged, weapons that drank the enemy's blood to strengthen themself.

This was the big difference between demonic ballads and normal ones. The ones Tored knew worked just like that and used mana to function, the price for the demonic ones was often blood or lifeforce. Either the targets or the users.

Looking at these terrifying weapons the dwarf wished back the days when his student made cursed weapons with funny effects like causing a cold or sudden back pain.

He felt a little blue, thinking that Seth was rushing to leave. Tored did not want company at first, but now he had gotten used to this young man living in his workshop and the occasional visiting fairy and beast girl. He didn't appreciate the elf that recently started to come by once in a while, but he tolerated him.

He put on thick gloves for smithing, the ones normal people without fire-resistant hands needed, and put those not-evil weapons with evil auras away. He wouldn't want to touch them with his bare hands.

--

Seth woke up with a thick headache. He did not drink enough during his forging frenzy and was now terribly dehydrated. This was one drawback of the system, the automatic recoveries did nothing if it lacked the resources to do it. He crawled to the bathroom and started to gulp down copious amounts of water.

After lying down on the bathroom floor for a few minutes he felt his head clear up. His first thoughts went to his skills. He had ranked up in , just 2 more to go. He stood up and returned to the workshop.

Tored saw him look around like a confused zombie.

"I put the weapons in the storage if you are looking for those," Tored said casually and Seth started taking them out one by one carving various enchantments.

"F-Finally..." he exclaimed and threw away the engraving tool.

"hey! Don't just throw the tools around!!"

"Oh, sorry," he said absentminded. Why had he been in such a hurry? It was like a trance had been lifted from him.

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